Angels in Demon Skin
by Laser Lance 720
Summary: When the Carrow take class a step too far, Draco finds himself unable to follow their orders. But challenging them could lead him to a world of pain and trouble. Is it worth the risk of angering the Death Eaters, or should he just perform the curse as told?


**Quick Note: My name is **_**not**_** J.K Rowling. I am in no way the mighty wizard Goddess which is she. I do not own any characters present in here. But while I do not own them, I do still love them and enjoy using them for my twisted pleasures and fantasies. Especially Draco. I really love working with Draco Malfoy. He is and always will be my favorite character in the series. Nothing will change that, and my love only continues to grow the more I work with him. **

**Onto the story. Another look into that mysterious seventh year of theirs, and a little of Draco being unsure of where his loyalties lie. **

**Reloaded on 3/30/14**

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They sneered at him. All of them. Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff. Gryffindor. Even those in Slytherin house turned their noses up at him, but for much different reasons. He was a Malfoy. The name struck fear into most hearts, and ridicule in others. A Death Eater. A poor piss version of one, but a Death Eater none the less, and that alone was enough for them to hate him. The younger years dropped their eyes when they passed, afraid to cause offense to a member of one of the most well-known and despised family of Death Eaters. They scampered passed him, eyes lowered, voices dropped, and fear radiating off of them in waves. The older students of Hogwarts were braver around him. They openly sneered, and in the case of several members of the straggling DA, openly hexed him. They fear neither him nor his father. He admired their bravery in the matter, but questioned their preservation senses. Had he been any other Death Eater, he would handed back their attacks two fold. But he _could_ not. He would not. They may view him as a prejudice, purist, and self-serving bigot; maybe he was at his core, but he was not evil. He was not the murderous, vile Death Eater that everyone saw or wished him to be. No matter how hard he tried, he deep he threw himself into it, he couldn't be that person. As much as he desired turning his wand at each bat-boogie hex that hit his back, he did his best to keep himself restrained. He wouldn't be the monster they though he was.

Where he struck fear into the hearts of the other houses, his own house knew him different. They knew that the tough, put together Draco Malfoy was no longer him. That he had never truly been the put together prince of Slytherin. Those with Death Eaters in their family, or those who were marked themselves, knew that the fear so many felt towards him and his family was for naught. His father was a joke of a Death Eater. The scapegoat for the tragedy that had been the Department of Mysteries failure. Lucius Malfoy was quickly falling out of grace, and it was well known among their ranks. Draco Malfoy, the name struck only laughter among Voldemort's follows. The idiot who had failed to kill Dumbledore. Who cowered behind the skirt of his mother. The Death Eater unwilling, and unable to kill without cause.

The hatred towards him seemed to increase about a week into the term, whenever the Carrow siblings began their reign of terror. The Carrows took to the school the moment they were unleashed upon it. Teachers attempted to quell their destructive tendencies, but were cut down quickly by Headmaster Snape. Allowed to rein free, the siblings took to the disciplinary roles with much excitement. The days of detention of Umbridge were nothing compared to the torment the Carrows bestowed upon all those who found themselves on their wrong side. Draco learned quickly to steer clear of them. He was thankful that they were a bit more lenient with the Slytherin house, and despite his father's slow fall from grace, he still held enough power over the other Death Eaters that the Carrows did not take the risk of upsetting the Malfoy heir.

Unfortunately for many, they did not have that fear to hold over the newest teacher's heads. Creevy had learned that only a week into the term. Finnegan had picked up the lesson just a few days after. The black eye he had received was still healing even a week after. Longbottom and the Weasley girl were either too stupid to pick up on the lessons, or too senseless to care. Either way, they; along with Loony Lovegood, were Hell bent on becoming a big a nuisance against the Death Eaters at Hogwarts as they could. Their little rebellion would not last long, but Draco had to admit he respected their gall. As stupid as they were for trying to oppose the Death Eaters, he regarded their attempts with respect.

_He_ was not getting involved any more than he had already been forced to. They could skate around playing hero all they wanted. He was going to continue the pitiful existence he called life, and just wait. One way or the other, things were going to be different after this year. Outcome one; Potter and his merry band of idiots would win, causing Voldemort and his followers to admit defeat. Many of them would find themselves in cells at Azkaban. Draco didn't know if he would grace one of those cells or not. But the chances of Potter winning dwindles each day, leading into outcome two; Voldemort would win, the world would topple to ruins, and he would have no choice but to truly live by the mark on his arm. Neither outcome looked good to Draco, but after weighing the outcomes, he found himself secretly hoping for Potter and them to pull this off. A few years, to life in Azkaban scared him, in truth it terrified him to his core, but not as much as a world run by Voldemort did.

Either way, Draco was sitting out as much as possible this year. At least, that was what he told himself every morning. He wouldn't get involved unless he couldn't find a way out of it. He knew that the moment Lord Voldemort or his father brought a demand in front of him, he would have no choice but to comply and follow their whim. That he would not be able to weasel out of it. He expected that he would be dragged back into the Death Eater numbers sooner or later, but for now he was going to try and lay low and out of sight as much as possible.

Of course sliding by unnoticed proved to be harder than he had imagined. It only took a rough month into school for Draco to realize that following orders, and staying silence was not something he would be able to manage.

He should have known something would have gone wrong the moment he saw the Gryffindors in the hall. The deep red trim of their robes set off a festive, Christmas feel when placed in the same space as the collection of Slytherin green seventh years lining the other side of the hall. The feeling in the air was anything but festive. Draco eyed the hall in curiously, wondering why Defense Against- no- he corrected himself, it was simply just Dark Arts now, either way he wondered why the class had been moved down into the basement, and why the two houses would be sharing the class for the day. A few halls down from where the stood, Draco could hear the sound of Slytherins moving in and out of the common room and made not of the proximity to his room.

He watched the Gryffindors carefully, taking extra note of the way Longbottom glared across the hall at Crabbe and Goyle. Draco stood at the other end of the hall, unsure as to rather or not he should move to stand beside his so called _friends_. Watching their deep glares of hatred pass over Longbottom, Draco felt like staying away was a brilliant plan. He didn't trust Crabbe and Goyle to keep from causing trouble, and as good as the two were at the Dark Arts, Draco was well aware that when faced against Longbottom, the two would find themselves quickly beaten. The once chubby Gryffindor had grown and matured, both physically and skill wise. Draco didn't feel like picking a fight for the simple reason of Crabbe and Goyle's amusement. Besides, he didn't want to pass between the lines of Gryffindors and Slytherins that lined the walls between them. Sighing heavily, he slide against the wall, pleased that no one had noticed his presents yet. Before any of them had the chance to notice him, the door by Crabbe slammed open wide revealing Amycus Carrow; a wicked grin plastered over his features.

"Come in, quickly. Last one in, shut the door." His voice was full of urgency, and left no room for argument. As soon as he spoke, he marched back into the room, his tattered robes flapping behind him as he went. Crabbe and Goyle were the first to pile into the room. One by one the Slytherins and Gryffindors filled in, looks of concern and worry passing over the faces of many from both house. Draco himself felt a knot building in his throat as he followed in last. Stepping into the room, he made a move to shut the door behind him, but froze at the scene before him.

Crouched in the center of the large room where four figures. A foot spaced between each, and a single source of light shining onto them. Draco couldn't tell how old each of them were, but the one closest to him; a young girl with short, heavily curled black hair, couldn't have been more than a second year under her Hufflepuff robes. A thick chain dawned her ankle, the chain connecting the four of them, either end latched into the floor. They kept their heads down, occasional muttering and moans coming from them. The students who had entered into the room stood partially hidden in the shadow, but Draco knew his look of anxiety was shared between many of them.

"I said, shut the damn door!"

It too several seconds for Draco to realize that he was no longer gripping the handle to the door. It had been ripped violently from his hand, the slamming of it closing drawing him from his trance. Blinking several times, he looked into the wild eyes of Alecto Carrow as the dust settled around them. The height he had acquired over the summer proved to be useful now, as it gave him at least three inches over her. The disadvantage she held in height didn't stop her. She glare heavily at him, sizing him up, as if debating of what to do with him. Draco kept his ground, unwilling to be stared down by the filth that was Alecto Carrow. She seemed to understand his challenge, her hand moving to her wand slowly.

"Sister!" Amycus' voice drew her eyes towards him. Her brother stood behind the chained children. The light overhead cast a dark shadow of his face. The black of his eyes glowed with a demonic light, and the yellow of his teeth seemed a radioactive gleam. "We will deal with that one later."

Alecto dragged a glare onto him. The rage she felt clear in her dull hazel eyes. Letting a growl pass through her thin lips, she stormed away from him and towards her brother. Standing beside one another, it was clear to see the family resemblance. The light hit their round faces in equally menacing effect.

"Shut up." Amycus' voice boomed, bringing them all quiet. Draco hadn't even realized anyone was talking. "We got a treat for ya today. These brats in front o' me are goin' to help us play a few little games." A whimpered came from the possibly fourth year boy in front of him. Amycus dropped his gaze onto the child. Without hesitation, he shoved his foot forward, connecting with the kid's side. The student toppled over, clutching his torso, and fighting a second whimper. The rustle of chains mixed into the air as he drew his legs into his chest. Draco waited in uneasiness fearing that Amycus would not stop there. His fears proved untrue when the Death Eater stepped back, his eyes once more on the Gryffindor and Slytherins in front of him. A moment of relief passed over Draco, but was cut short by the next words he heard.

"These little brats have volunteered to be practice for our fun." The sick smirk of Alecto's face made it clear just how little vote the four students had had in the matter. At her words, a mummer passed over the class. Several of the Gryffindors looked onto the four students with concern. Others, like Longbottom, glared darkly at the Carrows, unknowing what they meant, but aware it couldn't be good. And then there were Crabbe and Goyle. The two smiled almost as darkly at the Carrows did. Draco swallowed the dry lump in his throat.

"For your firs' lesson in the Crusiatus Curse." Amycus finished his sister's line of thought. The noise that broke out among the students was deafening. Longbottom's voice was the loudest, yelling sinisterly at the twins. The noise was quieted quickly by a well-placed curse shooting over their heads. Several stones of the wall behind them crumbled, leaving pebble like debrief on the floor. "Shut up, ya' little brats. I ain't got time for ya' noise."

Silence fell over slightly, and by the look on Longbottom's face, Draco had a feeling that silence wouldn't last. But the danger Longbottom was willingly placing himself into was not the top priority on Draco's mind. The Slytherin eyed the four students before them in terror filled dread. He doubted the four knew what was coming, or from the pleading looks in their eyes, maybe they did. The excruciating pain of the Curse was talked of greatly, especially now with the war at its current height. The feeling on a thousand knifes slashing through your flesh. Your bones breaking -no- shattering inside of your skin. Flames licking the cells of your body, your blood boiling in your veins. Yet despite the gruesome stories, the descriptions given where nowhere near the pain you felt under the curse. Even the agony Draco had experienced in that bathroom sixth year at Potter's hand had been nothing compared to when the Dark Lord's wand had been turned upon him.

One word. One simple little word spoken from the lips of the darkest man alive and Draco still remembered the way he had dropped as if all the bones in his body had vanished in an instant. He had known that the bones were still there because he had felt like they were snapping one by one in his body. He had known that despite the suffering, his bones had been intact, but the pain had mislead him to believe that they were indeed snapping and melting inside of him. It wasn't just the bones who felt the curse. It was every fiber of his being. No inch of him was spared from the torture. From the shattering sensation in his toes, to the blood dripping from his nose, the curse had shot through destroying all of him. He hadn't been surprised when he had passed out after the fourth time of the curse.

"We're not doing it!"

Draco's thoughts were snapped from his head at Longbottom's voice. Shifting his gaze towards the Gryffindor, Draco barely requester that he had been biting his bottom lip, and clenching his fist while his mind had drifted. Allowing his fingers to loosen, he relished in the slight numbness of his palm as blood began to flow in the area once more. He hadn't managed to break through the skin of his lips, but the stinging spell as he removed his teeth from them made it clear how close he had come to doing so.

"We are not doing it!" Longbottom's voice shout out, full of rage and anger. He couldn't seem to contain himself. Two of the Gryffindors had ahold of his arms, doing a poor job of taming him. The gleam in his eyes was wide, and dangerous.

"Is that so, boy?" Alecto growled darkly. "You ain't got a choice in the matter, you sniveling little-"

"Alecto!" Amycus cut her off with a snarl. "A little demonstration might change 'is mind."

"Right, brother." Alecto fingered her wand like a predator preparing to take it's pray. Before she drew it though, Amycus placed his bulky hand over hers, pushing her wand back in its holder.

"Not from you." Amycus said. He turned his eyes onto the student body. "From one o' the students. We have any volunteers? Come on. Don't be chicken."

Crabbe raised his beefy hand. Alecto smiled widely at him, and motioned for him to step forward. Once more, Amycus stopped her, signaling for Crabbe to stay where he was. The Death Eaters menacing gaze traveled over to Draco. "Malfoy. How 'bout you?"

Draco didn't move. He only stared at Amycus in fear and dread. He attempted to display as an intimidating glare as he could, despite the terror building inside of him. When he spoke, his voice was as dry as his throat, like he had been screaming just moments before. "I'll pass."

"You pass?" Amycus sneered, as he stepped closer towards him. "You don't have a choice in the matter."

"I pass." Draco repeated, spitting out the words with a forced steadiness. Amycus now stood a foot from him. The students around them had stepped to the side in an attempt to gain space between them and the two clashing Death Eaters. "Pick someone else."

Amycus growled like a caged animal. "I ain't pickin' anyone else. Besides, you've got experience with this curse. Yes? You know 'ow it feels."

"I pass." Draco snarl.

"I picked ya, and ya will do it."

"Or what." Draco didn't know where this confidence and rebellion was coming from. His goal had been lay low, not cause himself any more unwanted attention than he already received. Having a confrontation with one of the Carrow siblings, right in front of the Slytherin and Gryffindors of his year had never been his intent. But something snapped in him. Be it the bottled up rage of the past few years, the distress he felt for the four chained students, or the memory of his own torment, but something in his connected. Something in him exploded and called for enough. He wasn't backing down from this argument.

"You will do what you are told, boy." Amycus barked, realizing that Draco wasn't going to comply too his demands. The whispers of the other students behind him seemed to press farther on Amycus' nerves. "You will listen, or ya' will regret it. Don't think you're any better or safer than any other child in this school. When I say somethin' ya do it! Or ya will find yourself down with those four."

Amycus pointed towards the cowering students on the floor. His smirk only grew as his words turned even more violent. "Well? 'Ow many times ya think ya can take the curse this time? 'Ow long will it be before ya pass out again like the weakling ya are. Well, boy? Got nothin' to say?"

"I dare you to touch me." Draco stepped forward, his voice a low rumble in his throat. "We will see who regrets it then."

Amycus toy with his wand in his pocket. The desire to use it was clear on his face. "Don't piss me off, boy. Your father may be powerful, but even he can't protect ya 'ere. And in a few months' time, I doubt he'll be able to protect even 'imself."

Draco smirked wickedly. He couldn't see his reflection, but he knew in that moment that the resemblance between him and his father was clear as the gleam of anger in his eyes. "You say that, but if I'm not mistake, he's the one at the Dark Lord's right hand, while you're off playing babysitter to a bunch of kids."

"One more slip up and he won't be likin' the hand he falls under." Amycus' words cut deep. "He keeps up those failure o' his, and ya won't have your precious father to run to and cower behind for much longer."

Draco bits his tongue, refusing to take the bait. Any year prior to this, and Draco would have jumped at the insult upon his father, and hexed whoever had been unwise enough to make the remark. Now he didn't care to react. The arrogant prate of first year was no more by the beginning of last. He was vulnerable. Broken. Held together by healing charms cast with shaky hands, and he didn't have much fight left in him. Whatever fire had built in his stomach to push him through this verbal brawl quickly dwindled until the fire was nothing more than smoldering ashes in his chest.

Amycus spoke the truth. It killed Draco to admit it, but the Death Eater was right. Lucius Malfoy was barely hanging on to Voldemort's favor. There was no telling how many more mistakes they would be alive for. How many Crusiatus Curses they would endure before one too many were inflicted and their minds caved in on themselves. There was no telling how much longer Draco would have his parents for. He had taken the mark to protect them. He had joined the Death Eaters upon the threat that should he refuse, he could consider himself as orphaned as Potter. He had joined for their safety, but it proved that the mark on his skin was not enough to keep them safe.

"One more word, and ya won't be likin' the hand you fall under either. Now. Ya perform the curse, or your father won't have a coward to call his son for much longer either." Amycus couldn't stop with the first insult towards his father. He had to push it one step farther, hoping that the threat would either put the boy in line, or give him a reason to put him in line himself.

"Try it. I promise you, you'll regret it." Draco turned on his heels, unwilling to remain in the room much longer. Before he could step, Amycus blocked his path. The Death Eater towered over him by several inches as he closed the space between them to a hair. Draco could feel the Death Eater's breathes ruffling into his hair. Straightening his back, Draco glared up at the Death Eater. "Move."

"You don't give the orders boy." Amycus snarled. Several drops of slit hit Draco's face with his words. "I suggest you turn 'round, and do as I say."

"I have better things to do than torture children." Draco scorned. He dropped his voice down to a whisper. "But if you don't move out of my way, I will happily practice on you."

While near silent, the threat packed enough power to stun Amycus long enough for Draco to shove passed. Gripping the door handle, he knew that the moment he stepped out of this class room, he would regret it. The glare on the Carrows faces, as well as the disapproving frown on Crabbe and Goyle's made that painfully clear. The blank stares of the Gryffindor's were nearly unreadable. Longbottom's face portrayed something that could almost be mistaken for pride.

They all looked at him as if it were the last time they would lay eyes on him. But he didn't care anymore. Giving the door a hard shove, he stepped out of the room.

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**Why did I do this, you ask? Because I could. That's why. Because I had a chemistry test I did not wish to study for and this seemed like a less productive use of my time. No, not really. I honestly just was bored and wanted to write for Draco. That's been happening a lot lately actually. **

**We all know that Neville and a few of the other Gryffindors are Dark Arts drop outs, so why couldn't Draco be as well? I can't see him as being someone who readily agrees to perform the Crusiatus curse on kids for fun. Or at all. A large reason being that I feel he has had the curse used on him himself. Voldemort isn't a forgiving person, and I don't think he would have given Draco a lollipop after failing to kill Dumbledore. He didn't kill Draco, that's clear because the Slytherin is still up and kicking during seventh year, but a punishment would be at hand for his failure. And Voldemort does seem to like that Unforgivable Curse of his. Why wouldn't he use it on Draco? The fact that he is still a child didn't stop the madman from tasking him with an impossible mission, it isn't going to stop him for torturing the boy for failure. This is the man who let Bellatrix loose on the Longbottoms. The man who kills anyone and everyone in his way. The man who turned his wand onto a year old child because he could. This is not a nice man. I can see him easily torturing Draco. There's a reason why the kid is so fearful of the Dark Lord. **

**Having experienced the Crusiatus Curse first hand, Draco is not going to willingly dish it out onto innocent children. He's not a monster. A bit misguided, and definitely mislead, but not evil. I think that's something people tend to forget. Yes, he was an arrogant brat growing up, but being a bitch doesn't make you an evil monster. And why wouldn't he have joined the Death Eaters. He's raised in a very purist family, and taught from a young age who is good, and who isn't worth being alive. His family is made up of Death Eaters. He is the son of Lucius Malfoy, and niece to Bellatrix Lestrange. His home was used as a Death Eater headquarters. Voldemort slept under his room for God knows how long. What was he to do? Say no? He's a Slytherin, they like to live. One of the main things of being a Slytherin is self-preservation. Being a Slytherin doesn't make you evil, it just means that you're crafty, a bit devious, ambitious, and you have a sense of self-preservation. Gryffindors run into battle, Slytherins sit back and think things through before fighting. And even if he had run off to help the Order, who would have believed he wanted to help? He was screwed either way. So of course, he became a Death Eater. It was the only option that wouldn't mean death or losing everything he loved. Not all of us can be the Golden Trio and Neville Longbottom. **

**But there's my Draco logic. I've thought this through a lot. If I used the amount of brainpower I do to consider Draco's character, on school work, I could probably get homework done much quicker. If I stopped writing so many fanfictions I could probably really get homework done. Who am I kidding? A fourth of my brain is permanently attached to the Harry Potter world.**

**But if you liked this, check out the rest of my stuff. My short story "Friends in the End' deals with their seventh year, and also a bit of Draco and Neville. Because they are my fantasy BroTP. I need them to be friends. Feel free to leave a review. I'm still relatively new to writing for the Harry Potter world (**_**Been in this fandom since I was a kid, but just now getting a chance to write for it**_**), so a bit of feedback and thoughts is welcomed.**


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